The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-06-18
TWO LITTLE SISTERS

story. Iney nau no ulcAhooS, o'oAJ
body called them Dorothy and Margery,
which sounded rather long and old fash
toned for such little girls. Margery was
the elder, but they seemed to be about
the same age; for while Margery was
small and slender, with narrow little face,
all pink and white like an szalea bios
som Lit up by pair OF beautiful black
dashed gray eyes, Dorothy was large for her
years, sturdy and solid, and had round
laughing face, with black eyes and
thick bang of curly brown hair. They
were exactly the same height; and Doro-
thy, who was the boldest and most dar-
ing, always took the lead in their plans
and plays.
Did any OF you ever have the fun OF
watching the building OF a house In
which you yourself were to hveP Our
little sisters had this pleasure, and they
enjoyed every step in the new building.
When the cellar was dug, they went
every day to watch the laying OF the
foundation. They always took the kitten
with them, and she was the first "person'
to 90 down the cellar steps. But the
charming thing of all to Margery and
Dorothy was their own special room,
which at their urgent request was not to
be called the nursery, but "the children's
ROOM" It made them feel quite grown
up to have a bed-chamber OF their own
which was not spoken OF as a nursery.
Their mother had taken great pains to
make this room nice for her little girls.
Each had closet and bureau. There
were wide south windows, near one OF
which stood the dolls house; and oppo-
site the little white beds was pretty
open fireplace and brass andirons where
fire could be lighted whenever needed.
All was in order, as fair and fresh as
lily, on the day when the little sisters
took possession OF it.
Aunty Belle had been helping put the
last touches to the room before the little
ones were allowed to see it. When they
had exhausted their first raptures over
the prettinees of everything. she sat
down in the window and took Margery In
her lap.
'Now, chickens" I want to have Sc
rious talk with you," she said. "You
have the prettiest room Of any little girls
1 know; now, how are you going to treat
it?'
81 don't know" replied Dorothy, turn
ing somersault over the footboard of her
bed and coming down with bang on
the carpet.
"How do you mean to treat it, Aunty?'
asked Margery.
81 mean, are you going to keep it neat
and dainty, and the things carefully, Sc
they will look nice for long time? OF
are you going to be rough with it, sc
that in little while it shall be shabby
as the nursery was in the old house, with
everything stained and scratched, and
nothing in order?'
81 wouldn't treat such dear room as
this roughly for anything in the world.
mean to keep my closet as nice as
mamma does hers, and fix my bureau
drawers every single day. You'll see
Aunty, how spicky it will be. Nicer than
Margery's," said Dorothy, who was a lit.
tie jealous of Margery's reputation for
neatness.
"rhat sounds charming" observed
Aunty, with smile. 81 shall be very
much interested to see how you keep
your resolutions. Every day or two,
shall come over and peep into the two
closets, and take look at the bureau
drawers. And, each time 1 shall make
some little marks in this book" She
showed the children a small memoranda
UNI book, where on two opposite pages
stood the names of dorothy" and
"Margery."
"One hundred is perfect" she explain
ed. When things are quite nice, shall
give you ninety or ninety five; when they
are only little out of order, it will be
fifty or sixty, but when they are all top
sy-turvy, the marks will be only fifteen
or twenty,-'dreadfully low"
81 shall always put my things in order
when l know you are coming" observed
Dorothy.
"YOu never will know. 1 shall make
my visits while You are at school or out
at play"
81 mean to have ninety.five each time"
cried Dorothy confidently. "Aunty,
what will we get il we are always nice?"
"You will get a good habit" replied
Aunty Belle. And then she added more
seriously: "'Order is heavens first law, ,
Milton says. Nobody can have a thor
oughy happy heart or a clear conscience
who lives always in confusion"
For the first two or three weeks, all
went on well. The novelty of the thing
made needless Dorothy remember, and
more than once her mark was ninety-fye.
But careless habits are hard to cure;
and, gradually she forgot about Aunty
Belle and her little book and left shoes
and toys and soiled handkerchiefs on the
floor or dung her hat or cloak on a chair